


lull

by MegaSheep



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Angst, Lullabies, Nightmares, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 21:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17475035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaSheep/pseuds/MegaSheep
Summary: In a small cottage in Hateno village in the middle of the night, the hero dreams. The dreams shift to nightmares and then the waking world proves to be a cruel reminder.But she's there, and everything is different.





	lull

Sometimes Link does whatever he can to stay awake. He tells himself it’s routine, that he’s simply patrolling or keeping constant vigil over the Princess. When he had first awoken, he didn’t need to worry about the flood of memories, the flashes of mud and Zelda’s tear-stricken face and blood, all the blood—

 

He didn’t need to worry, because he had no memory.

 

Things are different now.

* * *

 

 _There are gasping breaths, his own and Zelda’s behind him as they sprint through the woods. The waterlogged ground squishes and sloshes under their harried steps and Link’s muscles scream, beg for him to stop. He can’t stop. Zelda can’t stop. They cannot stop because they have to go go_ ** _go_  **.

 

_Why are they running? Link thinks it has something to do with the mechanical noises in the foliage, flashing violet lights through the branches that bring the promise of danger, but if he thinks too hard on it everything gets a little fuzzy, whites out at the corners of his vision._

 

_“Come on, Princess,” he says to her, hoping she can hear over her labored wheezing._

 

 _He wants to stop running, but try as he might he cannot stop. He feels like this has happened before, in some distant life or a folk-tale his mother had once told him. The Princess and the Hero, running for their lives from the omnipresent threat of evil. His grip tightens on her wrist and he is sure that she will have deep bruises the next day, but he doesn’t care. He needs to get her to safety. Away away get her away_ **_away_  ** _hasn’t he been here before—_

 

_“Link!” Zelda’s cry sends a shudder down his spine. “Look!”_

 

_Dozens of looming Guardians block their path, their heads rotating, single glowing eyes scanning all directions. He grinds to a halt and the Princess slams into his back panting. He sees Fort Hateno, a solace of brick and stone towering above them behind the wall of Guardians blocking their way. He’s unsheathing the Master Sword before he even thinks about it, legs lunging into a practiced stance and mouth forming the words, “Stay back,” to Zelda behind him. He doesn’t think about it. It’s easy._

 

_But it isn’t easy, is it?_

 

_He dispatches one, two Guardians before a beam of searing light glances his side. The smell of charred flesh permeates the scent of wet Earth and he stifles a gag before he lunges forward again. There’s a nagging voice at the back of his head, a piece of him that cries and screams at him though he can’t hear what it’s saying. It sounds familiar._

 

 _“Link, save yourself, leave me._ **_Please_  ** _!”_

 

_He exhales shakily and dives for another Guardian. No, he would never leave her. Another Guardian wounds him and then another and another and—_

 

_He’s bleeding. Quite a lot._

 

 _It’s familiar_ **_familiar_  ** _; why is it so familiar?_

 

_“Link, run!”_

 

_He staggers to his feet, resisting every molecule in his being that’s telling him to stop, slow down. The world spins. The rain is relentless, washing away the blood as fast as it’s coming out. Zelda shoves him out of the way and a ray of dazzling light shoots from her palm._

 

_Link’s galloping heart jolts him into awareness: he’s been here before, lived this very moment before._

 

_The memory changes._

 

_Rather than reliving it he’s floating above it, an invisible bystander with no voice, no way to stop what’s about to happen next. He watches the Guardians crumple to the ground and then watches as his own body falls. It’s almost over, he thinks to himself; he finds comfort in the fact that he won’t have to relive this horrid moment for much longer._

 

_And again, the memory changes._

 

_As she leans over his dying form, her slim shoulders heaving with sobs and muffled yells, he sees it: a lone Guardian rises from the wreckage, violet lights flashing on it once again._

 

_“H-hey,” he warns, or tries to. She can’t hear him. The Guardian moves soundlessly, the sodden Earth sinking beneath its weight. “Zelda,” he tries again but still she does not move. A harsh target blinks on the small of her back and Link screams at her, and when she still remains weeping he screams some more, tearing up his throat and giving way to raw sobs as the light begins to blink faster and faster._

 

_“RUN!” he howls and nearly gasps with relief as her round eyes blink up at him. But it’s too late. She turns her face towards the vagrant Guardian just as a wide beam of light shoots from it. She looks to his form on the ground, then to the observer form watching from above. He watches with horror as her lips twitch up into a kind smile, her beautiful eyes shining with tears and something like acceptance. The attack hits and she vanishes within the light. Gone._

* * *

 

He’s cruelly thrown back into consciousness with a full body jolt. He flinches beneath the blanket as he tries to catch his breath, slow his jackhammering heart. A small amount of light streams in from his bedside window, but he can see faint lights from distant houses in Hateno.  _Hateno_. Right, he’s in Hateno, not  _Fort_ Hateno, in his house. Slowly, his eyes adjust to the minimal light.

 

He’s safe and warm, there’s a comforting weight to his back and—he glances down at his bare chest—he’s not bleeding, not dying. Link takes in a shuddering breath and runs his hands through his tangled hair and holds them at his neck.  _Not dead not dead Zelda is not dead_. The warm presence beside him stirs and then there’s a soft hand smoothing over his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles when his skin tenses beneath the touch.

 

“Link?” Zelda whispers. Her nose, slightly cold, brushes against his bare back as she sidles closer.

 

Link has to suck in another deep breath and squeeze his eyes shut for a moment before he rolls over. The bed creaks slightly beneath the movement as he settles himself, head propped on his pillow (the same pillow that she usually shuffles on over to each night). He looks at her; his heart  _aches_.

 

She’s frowning, though he suspects it has less to do with being roused from sleep and more to do with him being… this. He shakes her head at her, trying to convey that yes, he will be fine please go back to sleep. Her eyes harden with resolve and her small hands are cupping the sides of his face. They’re so gentle, so  _kind_. They suit her, he thinks, these warm hands.

 

“A nightmare,” she states, does not ask, because of course she knows. Zelda always knows. She didn’t always get the trick to reading him, of course, but now, after all they’ve been through, she  _knows_.

 

“Yeah,” he manages.

 

She sweeps a thumb over his cheek and he closes his eyes, leans into her gentle touch. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks. It’s not a prying question and he doesn’t feel pressured to answer with words.

 

He leans his head forward until his forehead bumps into hers. When his eyelids slide open he murmurs, “It was Fort Hateno.”

 

Her eyes widen a fraction and then soften again, understanding dawning upon her. Link winds his arms around her and pulls her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. Her sigh flutters against his collar bone and he feels his grip tighten. He’s afraid, he thinks, afraid that if he closes his eyes again he’ll see her disintegrating and dying and that  _smile_ , her wonderful smile. He would never see it again.

 

“It was different,” he says, voice soft and hesitant. Her hands rub up and down his back slowly. “Everything was the same up until I—you—until you awakened the power.” His body shivers involuntarily and he hates this display of weakness.  _It’s just Zelda_ , he tries to tell himself, though that’s not quite right. It will never be  _just_ Zelda.

 

“One Guardian survived and you didn’t see it,” he continues. “You… vanished. Died.” He holds her tighter and she croons softly against his chest.

 

“Oh Link,” she soothes, pulling away. Her eyes are wet with tears and he feels a pang of guilt for causing them. “It was just a dream.”

 

“The last part was, yeah.” But the first bit of it? A memory. His last one before… all of this. “Sorry,” he adds. An afterthought.

 

She pinches his cheek swiftly and he yelps in surprise. “Never apologize for that, Link.”

 

He rubs at the tender spot and scowls at her. “That was unnecessary,” he grumbles.

 

“Completely necessary.” her lips twitch upwards and then stretch into a full smile.

 

Link isn’t the most verbose guy and hell, he was practically mute for years at a time. But the way her cheeks dimple in the tiniest bit when she smiles? The way her eyebrows raise a minute amount and widen and crinkle her eyes? He’d consider taking up poetry, just for that. The sight sucks his breath out and slams it back in, every time. It’s a smile worth protecting, a smile he  _will_ protect…

 

because he failed to do so last time. He left her alone.

 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

 

Zelda’s smile drops— _damn it_ —and her brows knit together in confusion. “I already told you—”

 

“No,” Link rasps. “For—for not being there for you. I left you alone. All alone.” Something wet slides down his cheek. Her thumb brushes it away. “You were by yourself for so long, Zelda, so long because I failed.”

 

“Shhh, Link, you didn’t fail me.” Her small legs are tangling with his, as if she’s trying to press as much of herself as she can to him. “If anything, I failed you.”

 

“You didn’t. Please don’t say that.” Link shakes his head as much as he can with her hands still cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he hiccups. “I’m  _so_ sorry.” He can feel his face crumpling, unshed tears flowing down his cheeks and over Zelda’s hands. “You were all alone.” Her hands slip behind his neck and then down to his shoulders, pulling him flush against her. “I left you there.”

 

She tucks his head under her chin and shushes him over and over and over again. His frame trembles slightly beneath her touch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats like a mantra, whispering the words against her collarbone. And with each apology she only grips on tighter, for dear life. Whispers are murmured into his hair, forgiveness and mindless phrases that he can’t quite make out.

 

And then her voice drops off and comes back, lilting and so soft. The words are completely lost on him but the tone, the simple way that the melody wraps around him with such gentleness that he quiets. The repeated “I’m sorry” tapers and he  _stills_. She glides through the notes, each one coming as a logical next step to the simple song. It’s a guide to sleep. A lullaby.

 

His eyes begin to droop and he fights it. “Zelda,” he cuts in, petal-soft.

 

She continues to sing, simply carries out the verse she’s singing, ending the song when it feels right. He pulls away enough so he can see her face. She looks to him; their noses brush.

 

“My mother used to sing that to me,” she breathes. “When I couldn’t sleep or if I was tired or… sad.”

 

He squeezes his eyes shut and sees flashes against his lids of Zelda looming over him and crying, smoke plumes rising to the heavens. If he focuses and pries that memory more, he can hear more than her sobs and the pounding of rain:

 

“You sang then too,” he grasps. His eyes snap open; her’s are wet with tears.

 

“I did.”

 

Link’s heart pangs with guilt, a melancholic shudder. Briefly, he wonders if this is the first time she’s sang that since then. Perhaps she offered herself some form of comfort with the melody during her 100 year battle with Ganon, her own voice carrying the light back to her.

 

Something so incredibly tender fills him then, a soft determination that makes him come to realize something else. “I’ve never heard the end.” He never had the chance to. But now?

 

“Would you like to?” Zelda asks.

 

Link nods slowly. “I would, very much so.” Guilt still gnaws, urges him to continue, “I’m not leaving you ever again.”

 

She sniffs wetly and shakes her head. Again the air is sucked and put back into his lungs as she  _smiles_. “I know.”

 

“And if I fall asleep before you get there... “

 

“We’ll just have to try again.”

 

Link does manage to keep his eyes open for the rest of the song. He keeps them open as the words get further and further apart and as Zelda’s breathing evens out. He finally closes them when her’s do, cradling her in his arms like something precious.

**Author's Note:**

> everything i write is just turning into self-indulgent pieces at this point
> 
> pls let zelda and link REST
> 
> i'm usually on [twitter](https://twitter.com/MegaSheeeep) yelling


End file.
